Newcastle United 3-0 BFC, Sunday 7th May 2017

‘You never saw the lips on that dog' (Tina Tyke, for the uninitiated)

Welcome to...the Sports Direct Arena

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.  I can confirm otherwise.  Having lived outside the north east for over 20 years, and having not seen the Super Reds at the Sports Direct Arena since the Premier League (19 years ago – how time flies!), I still despise them.  Admittedly, the Mags have provided plenty of comedy over the intervening years (Bowyer and Dyer fighting on the pitch, relegations, crying Geordies, unpopular owners - I wouldn't change them for the world!) but every time I see a black and white striped shirt I still get that feeling of irritation, verging on hatred.

Like our chances..a tall order.

Luckily these days, I don’t have to put up with their rubbish.  Do they still think they are ‘bigger than Barca’?  Do they still think they have a divine right to win things?  Well, the short answer seems ‘yes’.  Even on attaining promotion, all they do is bleat about whether Mike Ashley will give them the ‘war chest they deserve’.  Mind, even Slacki fell into their trap.  Something about ‘they should be in the Premier League, really.’  Christ, this raises my heckles.  WHY should they?  So, come to that, where should WE be?  Cos if this is about size of club, size of crowds…what are we?  Division 3?  I actually quite like it the way it is, where the league is decided upon RESULTS and we supporters of ‘teams like Barnsley’ celebrate the small victories cos we know we’ll never win owt (major) while ‘teams like Newcastle’ spend the last 50 years wondering why they haven’t won the kind of trophy they 'deserve'.  And by that, I don’t mean the division 2 title (isn’t this their 3^rd in 30 odd years?)
Oh yes, there was a match.  You all know the drill.  We pay 32 quids to watch a match from the heavens.  Though actually, it wasn’t that bad a view – for a seagull.  You are high enough that you can see the action, though too high to (usually) know which player is which (though I can see Callum Elder is s*** from here).  Dave complained of vertigo and (seriously) I found myself a little dizzy looking around the stadium. 

The teams line up.

And for 20 minutes we made it even more difficult to see, cos we were camped in their half, busy creating nothing.  But neither were they.  Then they broke on our left (the north eastern press raved about this, but all they did was get the ball across to where Elder can’t defend…then doubled up on him giving him even less than the no chance he already had, before a ball was cut back for Perez to flick home).  It was all a bit too easy and no more than we expected, I s’pose.

Only in Geordieland...WKD on offer.

Second half, we were pegged back.  Davies started pulling out the saves but it was only a matter of time.  They blazed one over an open goal before Davies parried another one straight to a Mag.  2-0, game over.  Or was it?  Weirdly, we had 2 big big chances to nick a goal, as Watkins came on and headed one at the keeper when he should have done better, while….I can’t remember the other chance (this IS 5 days later) but it was a good one.  I think someone was clean through….anyway, imagine if both of those had gone in!

The north-east's biggest conservatory.

By now, the Reds crowd was in good voice, baiting the silent Mags about the Championship championship going to Brighton, but then it happened.  For the 3^rd time that day Newcastle made some noise (3-0, £10m Dwight Gayle came on and scored within minutes) and before the cheers died down, news came through: those Albion idiots had conceded to 10 man Villa and the Mags could celebrate like they’d matched their finest achievement of the last 48 years.  Which of course, they had.  Let’s just say one advantage of this was that we only had to listen to a minute of crowing before it was full-time and we could escape the stadium and into the empty streets.  Otherwise the only noise I heard outside the away end was the clatter of rain on the roof (it wasn't raining; it's the sound of Geordie applause at the SD Arena).  As for us, like our season since January, our eagerly anticipated trip to the north-east was an anti-climax.  Unlike some other teams, September cannot come SLOW enough for us.

Can you make out ANY of our (outfield) players?

*** Davies.  Saved us from conceding 5 or 6.
** Watkins.  Came on and FINALLY we had a presence up front.
* No idea.   The rest were just dots moving around a pitch.

Londontykes' MOTM:  1. Davies  2. James  3. Watkins

Despatches:
We might rate Scowen, but he was certainly muscled out of it today by bigger, better players.  Hopefully the scouts were watching and he’ll stay!  Elderwas a catastrophe.  Nevermind the hapless defending, he sh*ts himself in possession, either miscontrolling or letting it go under his foot and out of play. Bradshaw was weak up front.  I’m losing faith.  Kent…guess what?  Took on players till he lost it.  I'll miss shouting at him when he's gone.

Pre-match north-eastern tradition that it is…where else can you find a topless bar before midday on a Sunday?  Sure enough, Slacki and Andy found the right place.  (***Note: they both SWEAR they didn't know this till the beers were bought).

Sir Bobby.  Head and shoulders above the rest.

Drink du jour: f** all pre-match (see above – Sarah wasn’t especially interested in drinking in a titty bar) though a multitude of quality ales later as we bar hopped; Kronenburg (strangely smelling Goth bar), Asahi (Wagamama – food pitstop), Brooklyn (cinema bar), Krusovice and some wheat beer in the craft pub.  So my weekend wasn’t all wasted.  Also enjoyed Slacki upturning his Jager in his Jagerbomb...so he drank pure energy drink, wondering where the good bit was...

The Damage:
£32 ent
£3 prog (anyone want a free Rafa poster?)
£42.25 travel
£24 travelodge
= £101.25

Pre-match outside #9.

Sports Direct panorama.

Those deemed not good enough.

Outside the elderly (by SJP standards) East Stand.

Inside, looking at the ginormous West Stand.

The view from Row X.

'Dessert' Geordie-style.  A dish of pork crackling.

BFC 1-1 Burton Albion, Saturday 29th April 2017

‘It won’t suck itself.’

The early bird catches the empty car park

Let’s start at the end.  It is 3:30am and I am stuck somewhere in Crystal Palace.  I have fallen asleep and missed my stop on not one, not two, but THREE nightbuses.  I have ended up in Palace twice, with the other journey broken up at Farringdon when I awoke heading back to Kings Cross.  Actually, I don’t remember whether I got off at Palace or not the 1^st time; maybe I just stayed on the bus for the return journey? Cold in Crystal Palace at half three in the morning, I gave up.  There was a cab office in front of me.  Taxi to Peckham?  £16.  So, my recent good run has come to an end.  Just shows the state I was in after the match.  Well, the last home game of the season comes but once a year…and things could be worse. The Captain had flu, so couldn’t make the game, but still trained it up from Southampton to Waterloo to hand over our train tickets.  (There’s a lesson to be learned there, Phil.)

The point I gave up and got a taxi.

I arrived at Oakwell early; my dad had my ST and I was through the turnstiles by 2. It’s a bit weird being in a virtually empty stadium pre-match, though it made a change watching the players warm up.  One last chance to win a home game this season and without a win in 8.  By contrast, we’ve never conceded a goal to Burton, a record I was keen to continue.  We’ve also never lost to them (4 games and counting).  0-0 would be perfect.  All records could stay intact!

The Super Reds warm up.

Kicking towards the away end, we carved out chance after chance.  No, scrub that. It was a vaguely open game but the best 2 chances fell to Burton; a free header over the bar and a chance on the back post where their bloke seemed to cross it when the goal was gaping. More fool him. Then, slightly out of the blue, we scored.  (I say out of the blue. I’d been nodding off again, like I’ve done the last few home games. Age?  Boredom?)  Kent burst past a player on the edge of the box and laid it off just before he was royally taken out.  The ball was then cut back and Moncur dug it out and netted to his right. A fine finish from the only bloke who looks like scoring for us right now.

The Burton contingent.

2^nd half, we came out all guns blazing.  No, really.  Bradshaw had a shot blocked, another was narrowly missed, and MacDonald nearly scored with an incredible overhead kick from a corner, the keeper saving low to his right.  Needless to say, from our best 5 minutes of the match, they score.  Burton send on ex-Leeds man Varney and he scores with his 1^st touch, another free header off a corner.  BFC, here’s an idea: mark the centre forward bloke on corners.  The reason he is a centre forward is probably because he is more capable of putting the ball in the net than his teammates.  (Note, this theory may not necessarily apply to BFC.)

The Ponty v Burton.

Thereafter, not a lot happens. Kent takes on everybody and blazes over (twice).  Hecky realises Jones won’t get any better and brings on Mowatt (Scowen switching to right back) before realising that Burton have no interest in attacking and pushing Scowen back into midfield and going to a back 3 (in reality a back 2; how AWFUL was/is Elder?)  We carry on 2017’s Oakwell theme of never looking like scoring. Armstrong is even sent on for his customary ‘looks like he could do something but doesn’t’ cameo.  The ref blows for full time, but not before Hedges is given a minute and a half to win it for us. Most pointless substitution of the season?

Injured or timewasting?  Let's just say the stretcher wasn't needed,

*** Scowen.  He’s here, he’s there, he’s getting kicked everywhere. Is it illegal to give yellow cards for fouls on ‘arr Josh?  A couple, he was sent proper flying.  Though part of his ‘problem’ is being so quick to nip in and win balls. His other ‘problem’ is his ability to drive forward 60 yards with the ball, as he did on one run 1^st half.  A final Oakwell appearance before he signs for someone better (richer) than us? 

** James.  Cool, calm and calculated.  He makes time for himself where no-one else can.  A final Oakwell appearance before we can’t afford to make his loan permanent (not that he’d want to).

* Moncur.  Another promising attacking display from our #10, playing the #10 role.  I can see us building next season’s team around Moncur (till a poor run of results has him blamed for being too lightweight and subsequently banished to the reserves.)  Don’t forget where you read it first.  

Londontykes' Top 3:

A new plaque has appeared in the East Stand concourse.

Despatches:
MacDonald was twitter MOTM, but he had nowt to do (though marking Varney in the 52^nd minute woulda been good).  Elder and Jones were in competition for most inept fullback performance of the season.  Thank god they’re on loan.  Elder in particular struggles to control a ball, hesitates, and lacks any positional sense.  And we already have Kpekewa for those things.  Up front, Bradshaw was anonymous. It’s ok saying we need to play him balls to feet, but Scowen did once (2^nd half) and Bradshaw failed to control it.  Watkins was another one you never saw, least not till late on.  As for Kent – what can I say that I haven’t already? If you see him once, you think ‘crikey, he looks good’ but if you watch him 30-40 times you see he’s the same every game. Beats players and loses it. No end product whatsoever.  And while I’m at it, how comes he’s the club’s young player of the year?  If we can’t vote for Hourihane in the main award (cos he’s not our player) how do we give Liverpool FC’s Kent our young player?  Either way, says it all about the efforts of our OTHER young players.  (Like Villa’s Hourihane, I’d give our young player to Villa’s Bree – THAT’S why they bought him, cos he was being dead good, like.)

Oh yeah. Roberts got the supporters’ POTY trophy.  Hopefully his injury will put other suitors off the scent.  As for the Londontykes’ POTY – crikey, I’d better start totting things up.  I don’t have a clue who’s in the running!

Regarding tactics yesterday, how many times did I see us try to pass it THROUGH a massed defence on the edge of their box?  Get the ball OUT WIDE and WHIP IT BACK IN.  The one time we did, Elder (of all people) drove it across and their fullback nearly put the put the ball in his own net.  The closest we came in the last 38 minutes.  To quote a bloke who I used to work with (and couldn’t stand) ‘it’s not rocket science.’  (His other favourite line, which he would repeat every Monday without fail was ‘HAPPY MONDAY!’)  He thought this was truly hilarious.

I left just before the end, to catch the train.  Was there a pitch invasion? I suspect not, as the Ponty weren’t all lining up by the hoardings as per.  Another great tradition killed by the club.  But I did hear the tremendous backing of the crowd towards Heckingbottom et al AFTER the final whistle.  Nothing like creating an atmosphere AFTER the (home) season has ended.

Onwards and upwards!  (We’ll come 23^rd next season.)

The cameramen wait for the game to begin.

Drink du jour: Erdinger in #7, and choose any of vodka, gin and JD on the train. Not sure I needed the extra beer in the Parcel Yard, or red wine in Caminos (see earlier).  I don’t think I was the only one ‘tired and emotional’ yesterday, as a few fans in the East lower kept singing ‘Reds, Reds are falling apart again’ to the tune of Joy Division’s ‘Love will…’ 

Away: 1,238, or approximately twice what Bristol City brought.  A fantastic effort from the tiniest team in the division.  Well done the Brewers on staying up.  Hopefully another cracking away day to look forward to next year!

The Damage:
22.20 train
3 prog

The Tunes:
Dead Elvis (Death in Vegas)
Geogaddi (Boards of Canada)

Panorama v Burton.

'Atha laikin Dyer?'

I'm impressed with this initiative (whatever I thought of Dyer, the player)

The old Main Stand.

This is how it feels to be lonely...

Who knew I sit near the 'F' of 'Barnsley F.C.'?

Bristol City 3-2 BFC, Saturday 22nd April 2017

‘WE WANT JOHNSON OUT, WE WANT JOHNSON OUT!!!’

Welcome to...the away end.

What a strange world. A year and a half ago, I nearly landed myself in a fight with other Reds fans for chanting ‘Johnson Out’ at a game.  Now, everyone’s at it, as I’m joined by the entire away end, notwithstanding the barrage of expletives casually drizzled on top.  Who knew that Reds fans’ favourite words began with ‘f’ ‘s’ or ‘c’?  Certainly the locals of Ashton Gate, who, bar scoring, were silent to a man.  

City Ultras?  Bless.

Shame then that we gave them something to cheer about, despite bossing the 1^st half. I hate it when the ball’s at the other end, cos seeing our goals are that much more difficult!  Either way I could see a shot take a deflection (Mowatt off Moncur) but, even sweeter, their mob were still whistling about a foul which might have been given against Marley.  Their bloke stayed down, we played on, we scored.  Like the stadium needed anymore vitriol added to the mix after Little Lee’s defection.  We’d even hit a post earlier (Kent?).  It was all too easy and they looked frightened to death.

Good job that new stand's got an upper tier.

The warning sign was there though.  It was emblazoned in large letters ‘ROBERTS’ as he himself got injured before HT.  F*** f*** f***ity f***.  We scrabbled to see who was on the bench.  (Where’s Jackson?)  We figure ‘Evans’ must be a defender.  Cos it’s either him or Ryan Williams to play centre half.  Christ.  Baton down the hatches, anyone?

Well, said baton didn’t last 10 minutes, as a cross was headed down and the loose ball fell to their only player, Abrahams.  (Actually, he’s not their player, he’s Chelsea’s, but he looked a class above anything else on the pitch.)  Their crowd wake up.  They camp in our half…which is the perfect opportunity for us to break upfield.  Armstrong (Armstrong!) races at their defence, lays it off to Moncur (Moncur!) who rifles it in from 20 yards.  I can’t believe what I am seeing. The away end goes potty.  Cue more obscene chants aimed at the Poisoned Dwarf.  This is fun.

Zoom in.  #33...Will Smith???

At 2-1, I felt a hell of a lot better than 1-0. We knew we could CONCEDE, but now we showed we could do something offensively.  A minute or 2 later, we’re breaking again, past the halfway line, and our player (Scowen?) is either tripped or pulled and goes down. He’s clear of their bloke, we’re 4 on 3, he’s comfortable in possession.  Not even a free kick, nevermind a yellow.  In a season of poor decisions, this is one of the worst I’ve seen yet. 

The view from behind the goal.

How long does our lead last? 5 minutes.  A hopeful ball is chipped up and Paterson does well, cutting inside and lifting it over the hapless Jones (another loanee who’s simply not good enough) before dinking it over Davies into an empty net.  Simples.  But don’t worry, we won’t have to wait long for the winner; a few mins more and Flint bangs in a header from a corner.  Who says we don’t miss Roberts?  A few City to our left (there were only a few City to our left!) return our earlier request:’Johnson, what’s the score?’   However, their hearts are more in celebrating their team winning than giving their chief midget any dues. 

Woo hoo!  We are a winner!

The game peters out, seemingly with them keeping the ball for ages down by their own corner flag.  Ho hum.  As Dave said ‘at least that means they’ll have to keep him for another season.’  Silver linings and all that.  Well done Bristol City; you’ve spent millions and avoided relegation.  Little Lee even has time to come on and shake his fists in celebration at the Reds fans.  I missed it, but I say good luck to him.  If we dish it out, he’s entitled to give it back, a la Winnall and THAT celebration.  Let’s not pretend like we’re precious or anything.  

Ashton Gate panorama

*** Roberts.  F*** it. 1-0 up, he gets injured.  We lose 3-1.
** Moncur.  ‘Scored’ two. Ish.  Cannot track back to save his life tho.
* Scowen.  Ran about.  I like a man who runs about.

Londontykes' MOTM:  1. Moncur 2= Roberts/Scowen

Despatches:
Kent had his moments.  Even looked dangerous once.  Armstrong never had a kick – till his role in the 2^nd goal.  A waste of a space.  Can’t we give Ryan Williams a run out in the #10 role?  At least he’s our player.  Lee came on.  He was funny.  Or s***.  One of the two.  (Do players get picked based on who their dad is?  Cos mine is Pele!)  Janko looked decent…till the fans chanted his name, whereupon he turned into someone else.  Davies had little to do (apart from the small matter of 3 conceded)  MacDonald was alright while Marley was physical without being overly involved.  Overall, I can’t question the commitment, but what a hole Roberts’ absence left.

Oh, and going back to the abuse, there's nothing like seeing a 7 year old start a 'Lee Johnson's a wan*er, he wears a wan*er's hat' chant.  'Does he even know what a wan*er is?' asks Dave.  Probably not, but he knows who is one.

Onwards and upwards! 

Happier days...the Super Reds come over pre-match.

Drink du jour: With Katrin in tow, we had a Selwood-inspired pub crawl down King Street.  A craft ale in a vegan pub (thankfully, my hot dog wasn’t…and it was the best one I’ve ever had…the sauce…the lashings of pulled pork over it…..hmmmmmm).  Oh yeah, then another beer emporium, possibly called ‘The Beer Emporium’ (Erdinger) and the Tobacco Factory after the match.  Sadly all nearly ruined by the choice of Fosters or Stella for the return journey. We need to source a decent offy if we’re gonna go there again!  

Away: 600 and odd rude, obnoxious, bitter ba5tards.  Fabulous!!!!!!

The Damage:
20 train.  Bargain.
25 ent.  Not a bargain.

The Tunes:
Careless Love (Madeleine Peyroux)
Mixmag Aug 11 (Above and Beyond)
Mixmag Dec 06 (Steve Angello)
Spirit of Eden (Talk Talk)

The future's bright

Is that roof a bit...odd?

Big teams and their big name sponsors

BFC 1-1 Brentford, Monday 17th April 2017

‘For a virgin, it’s a big ‘un’

Welcome to ....

This’ll be brief, cos I haven’t time to write much.  Another week, another failure to win a home game, another lead chucked away.  We can’t even beat (other) midtable mediocrity these days.  Marley put us ahead and I was lucky to see it – having nearly fallen asleep I went to the loo and came back in time to see him bury a close range effort.  No idea how it was set up.  Brentford equalise before the break.  If I could remember it, I’d tell you how.

The road to nowhere.

2^nd half, they coulda scored 3 in the first 5 mins….including a missed pen (Davies saving).  Did I read we’d given away more pens than anyone else in this division?  Very probably.  Looked a pen to me, as MacDonald mistimed a tackle.  Later, we had the chances to score 3 (Moncur having one saved and hitting the bar with another).  Marley and Bradshaw also missed one-on-ones.  A draw was problies fair, tho’ disappointing, considering a decent turnout, with match tickets a tenner.

Oakwell, from Grove Street Primary (R.I.P.)

*** Kent.  I know.  I can’t believe it either.  Looked lively, without scoring or setting up any goals. 
** Davies..  Quality finish totally out of keeping with this match.
* Moncur.  An improved performance. Perhaps there’s hope yet.  Twitter MOTM.  

Londontykes’ MOTM:  1. Moncur  2. Kent  3. Davies

Onwards and upwards! 

Drink du jour: PA (as opposed to ‘IPA’) and port on the journey back (needed to stay vaguely sober – work next day)  

Away: 664

The Damage:
30 train

The Tunes:
Black Holes and Revelations (Muse)
Protection (Massive Attack)
Aman Iman (Tinariwen)

'Come on you Reds' - the teams come out.

Super Reds v Brentford panorama

Injury in front of the old Main Stand.

A swarm of Bees.

Toby wins the mascot race.

The Ponty v Brentford.

A packed East Lower.

A nice day for it...